


Divine

by 4wholecats



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: F/M, divine dragon tatiana, i love her ok, manakete tatiana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-14 04:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13000026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4wholecats/pseuds/4wholecats
Summary: She can see far in each direction, especially with her ancient dragon eyes, and the horizon stretches out for miles. She can see the tops of the houses in the village from her perch, and she can see specks of people and animals still milling about in the streets of the open market. It’s nicer to be on top of the world like this, rather than as a goddess, she thinks.Aka Echoes, but Tatiana is Duma's daughter.





	Divine

**Author's Note:**

> this is unedited don't look at me

The town swirls around Tatiana as she leaves the temple for the day. People move to help her down the steps, some going as far as to kiss her hands in passing, despite her weak protests. As she walks through the market square, people call out to her from their shops and carts, offering her food or gifts. She turns them down and gives them a blessing of her own in return. The people of Rigel are good to her, and she loves every single one of them so much.

 

Her home, the temple, is old. It is older than anyone or anything in the small village, but Tatiana remembers it like it was back when it was new. It was a gift from her father, Duma, when Rigel was first founded. She had only been a little girl back then (only about 100 years old and already living out on her own) when it was built in her name. She didn’t understand what all the fuss was about, or why people kept kneeling at her feet and praying, but she loved all the villagers that came through her doors. They were kind to her (possibly a little too kind, she received an outrageous amount of offerings in the beginning that she had sent back to the people,) and she protected and healed them. 

 

She walks to the ocean. At times like this, when there are no wars to be fought, her healing magic is needed far less, so she leaves the temple whenever she pleases. Sometimes she goes into town to connect with her people, sometimes she borrows a horse and roams the plains, and sometimes she simply takes to the skies as a dragon, circling above the town she dedicates her life to protecting. But when it’s warm enough, she likes kicking off her shoes and feeling the cool water on her skin. 

 

It’s almost midday when she finally sees the ocean. It’s a bit of a trek, and it probably would have been easier to simply transform and fly there, but the sun feels so good on her skin in a way that just can’t compare to how it feels on scales.

 

Almost tripping over a sand dune like the graceful goddess she is, Tatiana makes her way over to the water’s edge. The ocean is clear and lazy, and she can see little crabs crawling their way back into the sand as the waves roll in and out.  She digs them out carefully with her hands, nudging them around in the wet sand until they scatter, clearly not intent of being poked all afternoon. 

 

So she continues her walk down the beach, undoing her heavy overskirt and slinging it over her shoulder. The shore becomes more rocks than sand and eventually, she finds herself on a massive pile of boulders overlooking the sea. She can see far in each direction, especially with her ancient dragon eyes, and the horizon stretches out for miles. She can see the tops of the houses in the village from her perch, and she can see specks of people and animals still milling about in the streets of the open market. It’s nicer to be on top of the world like this, rather than as a goddess, she thinks. 

 

Then she spots something on the sandbank below that catches her attention. It's a dark splotch on the endless expanse of white and blue. She begins her graceless descent from her boulder throne towards the shape, and when she finally gets both of her feet on the ground, she realizes that the splotch is, in fact, a man. A dead man, by the looks of it. He is face down in the sand, with his eyes closed. There is a sword sticking out of his side at an awkward angle, and his blood sinks into the sand, scaring away the rest of the crabs. With a hitched breath, she takes a hold of his shoulder and rolls him onto his side in an effort to get a better look at his face. She doesn’t think he’s one of her villagers, but there’s there’s too much blood and grime to tell, and she leans in closer. 

 

He jolts back to life a second later, sputtering and choking, one hand flying to his injured side and the other weakly grasping at Tatiana’s skirts. He startles her and she jumps back with a squeak. Then her instincts as a healer kick in. She pulls one of his arms over her shoulder and drags him away from the water and out of the sand. Once they are on the grass, she hums nervously, still standing over the man. He’s far from lucid, eyes glazed over and mumbling incoherently, so it’s obvious they won’t be walking back to town. 

 

But luckily, Tatiana wasn’t planning on walking back to town anyways. In one fluid motion she drops next to him, charges a healing spell in her palm, and with a quick apology, yanks the sword out of his side. He chokes and his eyes roll back in his head as she slams the spell into his wound, and for a second she thinks that she’s just killed him. Panicking, she feels around his collar for a pulse and finds one, relief flooding her. Then, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a dragonstone. It’s her most prized possession, and it shines red in her palms as beautiful wings sprout from her back and her skin morphs into scales the color of seafoam. She maneuvers him safely onto her back and picks the sword back up before taking to the skies, making a beeline for the temple. 

 

When she was younger, the idea of priests and priestesses attending to her in her temple home seemed strange and invasive. This was her happy place, and it wasn’t right for them to just come in and start blessing everything. That was her job after all. But now the clergy were like family to her. She had never been so happy to see them as when she touched down in the temple garden, two feet barely touching the ground as she transforms, almost being crushed by the man’s weight. Dropping the sword, she staggers as another woman runs to assist her and her “guest” inside.


End file.
